


Mardy Bum

by RichieBrook



Category: Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: M/M, The Last Shadow Idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25667083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichieBrook/pseuds/RichieBrook
Summary: Whenever Alex gets broken up with, he drags himself to Miles's place for a good sulking session and even better sex. However, this time Miles isn't having any of it.(Or: Alex and Miles are idiots.)
Relationships: Miles Kane/Alex Turner
Comments: 11
Kudos: 85





	Mardy Bum

**Author's Note:**

> Silly and short. I was in a Milex mood but didn't have any real ideas, so this happened. Feel free to bug me about all the mistakes that are undoubtedly in there.

“You really need to learn how to be alone,” Miles says as he steps aside to let Alex in. He half expects Alex to pout and promise that this will be the last time he seeks refuge at Miles’s right after a breakup, but Alex just smirks down at his own shoes, before toeing them off. Miles frowns. “You alright?”

“Yes, actually.” Alex finally looks up at him. “Sorry. For being predictable.”

Miles snorts. “I’d start worrying if yeh stopped being predictable. I were expecting you, weren’t I. Come on then, come in.” He gestures to the living room. Alex leads the way. His back is straight and his steps are confident, which means he hasn’t yet turned into the melancholic, quiet post-breakup Alex that Miles knows. Perhaps it’s too early. Perhaps it hasn’t sunk in that he was just dumped.

“What’d she say? Is she still at your place?”

Alex nods. “She’s packin’ her fings. I told her to let me know if she wanted to talk or say goodbye or what have ya.” He shrugs his shoulders and snatches Miles’s packet of cigarettes from the table. “Balcony? It’s nice out. Just a heads-up, I’m going to be borrowing one of your shirts later. Shouldn’t have worn a bloody longsleeve.” He peels off his socks as he speaks and steps out onto the balcony barefoot. Miles follows him, his brow knitted in a frown. He wordlessly accepts the cigarette that Alex presents him with and lets him light it, too. This isn’t right. Alex is usually a real handful after a breakup. He sulks and he sobs and he stays in the guest room or Miles’s own bedroom until the worst of it has worn off. Then he buys Miles dinner for his trouble. The mere memories are enough to make Miles’s skin crawl. Alex knows damn well why Miles is so open to his need for endless affection and yet he’s never done so much as apologise for it. He thinks of Miles’s support as a given and Miles - well, Miles is partly to blame for that. He lays a hand on Alex’s shoulder and squeezes.

“You seem proper happy for someone who just got broken up with. You sure you’re okay?”

Alex takes a long drag of his cigarette and angles his face towards the sun as he blows out the smoke. “I feel pretty good,” he says, and leans into Miles’s hand. “Sure, I’m a bit sad and all, but I knew from the start that it wouldn’t last. This is better. I feel better.”

Miles presses his lips tightly together. “Does that mean you’re buying me dinner tonight already? Must be some sort of record.” He doesn’t mean to sound pissed off. Alex breathes out a laugh and shakes his head.

“I almost forgot that there’s dinner in it for you,” he says. He’s so calm. It puts Miles on edge.

“Have ye been smoking anything funny?” he asks against his better judgment, perhaps simply to try and rile Alex up a little; to get him to resume the usual procedure already. But Alex doesn’t rise to the bait. He takes another drag from his cigarette and sits down on one of the chairs by the balcony railing. “Come sit,” he says and gestures to the other chair, but Miles doesn’t sit. He stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray and stands behind Alex, putting a hand on each shoulder. Alex’s entire body relaxes when he realises what Miles is planning on doing. “’Aven’t done much to deserve that, ‘ave I?” he murmurs absently.

“Not really, no.” Miles presses careful thumbs into stiff muscles and Alex sighs. His head falls forward slightly, exposing his neck, and Miles wants to kiss it but he doesn’t, because it isn’t the middle of the night just yet, which is when post-breakup Alex likes things to escalate between them - in the dark, when not even they can see. He presses his fingers to Alex’s neck instead, dipping them under the collar of his shirt as he rubs gently. Alex lets out a quiet moan and swears under his breath. “Fanks,” he whispers. “Yer a bloody magician.”

Miles clenches his jaw. “So how many pints of ice cream do we need to get ready this time?”

“I told you I’m fine. I weren’t lying.” Alex sighs. He’s a sucker for being touched and over the years Miles has become an expert on how to do it. He knows exactly where to put his fingers or his lips to elicit the most delicious responses. He’s always there for Alex when he needs someone to kiss him or hug him or undress him and pin him against the bed. It’s fucking embarrassing, is what it is.

“How?” he demands.

Alex shrugs his shoulders. “Just figured that I could come here as soon as it were over between her and me. And I could. So I’m okay. _Fuck_.” Miles is pressing both thumbs hard into his shoulders, more for his own benefit than for Alex’s.

“You really fuckin’ piss me off sometimes, Al.”

“I know.”

“Why were you with her if you knew it wasn’t going to work?”

Alex is quiet for a moment as he considers his answer. Miles leaves him be and resumes his massage, undoing the damage he just did with nimble fingers. Alex sighs his thanks. “She were really sweet. Gorgeous, too. Insanely clever. I think I really were in love with her for a while,” he muses. “That, and you’re reyt. I don’t know how to be alone. Messes with me head.”

Miles doesn’t think that that’s an excuse to be messing with his head too, but he keeps quiet. Alex tips his head back and looks up to him, watching him from upside down. “It’s what I do, isn’t it. I like being in a relationship. Makes me feel all kinds of good. I’m hardly going to miss out on that simply because I can’t get exactly what I want. I’m not the type for self-flagellation.”

Miles snorts. “Clearly. You’d rather hurt others.” He knows he’s overstepped a line as soon as the words leave his mouth, but then again, maybe that line was made to finally be overstepped. Even if it means no snogging, no sex, not having a sound asleep Alex plastered to his back tonight. He taps Alex’s shoulders absent-mindedly, then pulls his hands back.

Alex doesn’t react right away. He stretches his arms and shoulders, all the while keeping his back to Miles. “This hurts you,” he mutters. As if it’s news to him. “I mean, I’ve gathered as much. But why?”

Miles shrugs his shoulders even though Alex can’t see. “Fuckin’ why? Because I know what I’m in for, don’t I. get you for a couple of days and then you’re onto the next woman. I’m sick and tired of holding you over.”

“Sure, because this is fun for me.” Alex is still unbearably calm. He stands and turns to face Miles, who takes a step back. He expected to see a pout on those full lips. He expected puppy eyes and mumbled apologies, not what he’s presented with instead. Alex straightens his back and tucks his hands into his pockets. The sun is beating down on him and his cheeks are slightly red from the heat. He gives Miles a weary smile. “The only times you let me get this close these days is when you feel sorry for me. And I’ll gladly be yer pity fuck if it means I more or less get what I want, but you don’t get to be all passive-aggressive at me for it. It doesn’t suit yeh.” He runs a hand through his hair, which he’s styled back just like he used to during those playful days on tour when Miles got to run his hands through it every day. Then, the cheeky fucker brings a hand up to his shirt and undoes the three top buttons. His skin is glistening and Miles has to look away. “You never were great at readin’ the room, were ya,” he mutters. “Go change.”

The corner of Alex’s mouth curls up slightly and he pads into the living room again, leaving Miles alone on the balcony. Miles should throw him out. He should finally take the opportunity to explode and tell Alex the godawful truth. But Alex is humming quietly as he changes in Miles bedroom, and Miles is automatically pulled towards him, so he follows. He stops in the door opening. Alex has his back towards him as he browses through Miles vast collections of tops, and Miles recognises the song that he’s humming as a chipper Donovan one. It doesn’t exactly do anything to calm him down.

“What’s got you so bloody confident?”

Alex startles. He turns, a surprised smile on his face. His chest is a little leaner than the last time Miles saw him without a shirt on, his muscles a little less prominent. It makes him want to touch. “I told yeh,” Alex says, and he dons a plain white vest. He uses both hands to smooth his hair back again. “I’m here, aren’t I. No place I’d rather be.”

Miles wants to bang his head against the door frame. “So how about you fuckin’ stay for a change, eh? Fuckin’ sick of this. Pass me a shirt.”

Alex’s confident demeanour does slip this time, if even just for a second. He blinks, before turning to toss a striped bowling shirt in his direction. Miles has to dart forward to catch it. Alex adjusts his vest while watching Miles through narrowed eyes, then slinks up to him. “What are you saying?” he murmurs, bringing his hands up to the top button of Miles shirt. He looks up, waiting until Miles nods before he starts to unbutton it. Miles’s breath turns shallow. He should step back, but who is he kidding? Putting more distance between them is the last thing he wants.

The slight smirk on Alex’s face returns. He finishes unbuttoning the shirt and gently pushes it off Miles’s shoulders. “Yeh’ve been working out.” He puts his hands on Miles’s upper arms and leans in, crushing the collar of the expensive shirt between his hand and Miles’s arm. Miles couldn’t care less.

“I’m saying I don’t want you to wander off to the next girl after today,” he mutters, distracted by those hands on his arms; by Alex’s eyes boring into his. “I’m also saying yeh’ve never been a bloody pity fuck, Alex. Don’t know where you get that shit.”

Alex chuckles lazily and points to his own head. “Me head’s an expert at that. It also thinks you’re fit, so there’s definitely something wrong with it if ye ask me.”

Miles can’t help himself, he laughs. He finally moves forward and wraps his arms around Alex’s waist. Alex sighs and nestles himself into the embrace as if he’s been waiting for it. “I told yeh, I wouldn’t keep movin’ on if I could get what I want,” he murmurs into Miles shoulder. “And I know what I want, Miles.”

Miles shakes his head. “Sure, because me not being able to keep my hands off you every time you show up here means you _definitely_ can’t get what you want. I could _never_ want you, not in a million years.”

Alex hums and presses his lips to Miles’s collarbone. “Tell me something,” he says, his voice muffled. Miles runs his fingers through his hair. “Who will console me and buy me ice cream when you and I break up?”

“… What?” Miles uses the arm around Alex’s waist to pull him closer.

“What if I did stay? Where will I go after? When you and I don’t work out? I can’t come to you.”

“I’m sure Cookie will gladly offer to beat me up,” Miles mutters, which is very much beside the point, but what does Alex even expect him to say? They’re not even together yet and he’s already planning their breakup.

Alex laughs. His grip on Miles’s biceps tightens.

“Is that the real reason?” Miles tips Alex’s chin up with two fingers and Alex is suddenly very interested in the framed Beatles photo behind Miles.

“What?”

“You don’t _really_ think I only do this because I feel sorry for yeh. You know perfectly well that I want ya. Yer just scared I’ll dump you, too.”

Alex couldn’t have given him a better reply than the silence Miles is met with, and Miles sighs. “Did I already mention that you’re an idiot?” he murmurs. “How long 'ave we been best mates for again?”

“A while.”

“Have I ever ditched ya?”

“That’s different.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Miles kisses his cheek. “It _is_ different. We’re simply best mates who happen to also snog each other whenever an opportunity presents itself, and share a bed even when we don’t ‘ave to. You got me the Abbey Road anniversary edition on bloody Valentine’s, Turner.”

Alex’s cheeks turn a light pink. “It’s not like that. It was for yer birthday. Couldn’t wait that long; I were afraid you’d get it for yerself.”

“Uhuh,” Miles mutters. He doesn’t mention that he had in fact gotten it for himself as soon as it came out in September, and goes in for a kiss instead. Something about the change in Alex’s demeanour is making him feel bolder. He likes that they complement each other like that. Alex sighs a happy sigh and chases Miles’s lips when Miles pulls back. It makes Miles grin. “It’s like that, is it? So. Now that we’ve established that you’re madly in love with me, do you wanna go back outside and sunbathe? There might be another kiss or two in it for ya.”

“Joost the two?” Alex frowns. “I don’t know. Might have to stay ‘ere. Considering there’s a bed and all.”

And Miles wants to - God, he wants to, but he’s not about to take the bloody risk. Not this time. “Later,” he promises. “Outside, first. We’ll talk.”

“We’ll _talk_ ,” Alex parrots, raising an eyebrow. “C’mon, Mi. The sun will still be out if we’re quick about it. I’ll buy you dinner after.”

But Miles shakes his head, suddenly knowing exactly what to do. He kisses Alex’s nose, laughing as Alex makes a face and pushes him away. “Not a chance, puppet. I’ll be making you dinner tonight. Now. Outside. Let's talk about this; just sit back and let me manipulate you into being my boyfriend, eh?” Because sometimes life really is as simple as that. Miles much prefers simple to Alex's way of doing things.

Alex groans and rolls his eyes, but leads the way in a hurry.

**Author's Note:**

> It's not like that, Cat


End file.
